poem no. 01

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 I feel as I’ve torn my skin from my flesh

And I am just the hollow skin


The empath feels empty 


The grounded feels high


The sharp feels asleep


Dissociated from reality


I run to the future for comfort


I slip into my past


My present confuses me


Im unsure of where I am


Unsure of where my fate stands


Unsure if its mine or gods hands


While my own discernment runs in circles 


Not knowing where to land.


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